Instalment 9 Karijini National Park – Broome

After the excitement of Exmouth, I hadn’t even thought about what Karijini might entail. We set off and stayed at Tom Price that evening. Close to the town we encountered our first proper water crossing, justifying the snorkel at last.
Tonight Australia played Italy, and as usual nowhere was showing it, so our $30 black and white TV came into play. I was just too zapped and left Siobhan bundled in her sleeping bag and thermals, hunkered down against the power-point on our site.

We headed into Karijini and after picking up some maps hiked around to Fortescue falls. An hours walk culminated in a circular pool, so we stripped off to our undies and jumped in. It was lucky that we didn’t go naked in this circumstance as unknown to us there was a viewing platform about 100m up the cliffs overlooking the pool. As we hiked out several people commented that they’d seen us down there.


The next spot was Joffre gorge, which presented us with a wade across the top of the falls, a climb down, and then a traverse along a ledge above the water which opened out into an enormous circular gorge with a 30m waterfall at one end. So we jumped in, as you do.

Spent the night at the really spacious bush camp - Savannah - and it was pretty clear why it was named thus.
Up at first light (annoyingly I reversed over a metal post) and headed into Weano gorge.

This really was something. After about 30 minutes scrambling down via a ladder and traversing several ledges we got to the aptly named “Spider Walk”. This involved a 20m section using an arm and a leg each side of a fast running stream to manoeuvre ones self through the narrow gorge. The reward was a stunning waterfall tipping down into another series of pools really only safely accessible with ropes.
We then headed to the nearby Hancock gorge. Again we found ourselves wading a fair bit, and after climbing down a rope and around a large pool we continued downstream. The water got progressively deeper until eventually I had to put our camera in a dry bag and start swimming. Siobhan was again wearing her Australia football top with jeans and walking boots so we probably looked quite an odd sight as we met 3 Scandinavians coming upstream in swim shorts and bikinis. The swim was worth it and after 3 more swim sections the gorge opened out into an enormous cavern.








Even the drive out of the park was something else as we headed north to Port Hedland. Not really much to report on this supertanker filled harbour. Huge piles of red iron ore and white salt dotted the place, and every surface was tainted slightly with the red dust.
Spent the night recuperating at 80 Mile Beach, which lived up to its name, and received a text from Danny to say he was in Broome, our next stop, for a few days.
We got into Broome in the afternoon and found Danny. Following him down to the camp spot we passed a sign stating amongst other things; no didgeridoos, no drums and no fire sticks. I pointed this out to Danny who grinned and drawled.
“Guess I’ve been breaking all the rules….”

Danny’s been heading around the west coast with his assortment of toys for about 4 months now, and we spent really nice evening sharing adventures.
One point in discussion was the grey haired nomads, a breed unto themselves. Basically a tribe in their twilight years driving brand new 4 wheel drives and dragging caravans to explore the outback or heading north to a better climate for the winter. Many of these couples adorn their caravans with signs such as “Spending the kids’ inheritance”, and “Hank and Beryl, CH 40 UHF”
They can be found in any caravan park or rest stop, and once settled in to roost, set up elaborate sites, announce that it is B.O.C (Beer o’clock, not British Oxygen Company) and introduce themselves with their neighbours.
As we compared notes with Danny it became obvious that we had drawn some similar conclusions including certain undercurrents amongst these consistently happy, smiling people.

Siobhan and I caught our first glimpse back in Alice Springs where 2 trailers parked next to each other contained 2 couples. They seemed to be having a splendid time. Now I’m not too good with faces, but I was fairly sure the husbands were interchanging through the evening. We left the campsite at about 6am and quietly dismantled the tent. The quiet of the morning was suddenly punctuated by amorous sounds originating from one of the trailers, and we had just finished our task when the couple loudly finished theirs. The caravan door was then flung open and the husband/friends husband/lover/whatever stepped out with a towel around his waist, stretched his arms out wide, looked at me, pulled a big grin, winked and bellowed.
“G’day mate”

Clearly Swingers.
All of them.

The following morning we got up early for Siobhan’s birthday and, after the customary gift giving, headed for the beach. A lovely day spent swimming, sucking down a couple of beers and in the afternoon we took a catamaran out around the bay. Another stunning Australian sunset, some champagne and we set off into town to watch the England football match. Eventually we found a bar showing the game decked out with a large couch, and after about 45 minutes of play Danny fell asleep and snored through the rest of the game.
The following day:
Richmond knocked the Pies off their perch, which went a long way to make up for the disaster the night before.
Danny was being bashful, but it was becoming clear that a number of girls on the campsite were rather interested and were finding increasingly poor excuses to chat him up. We left him basking in the attention and headed to the beach.



He turned up in time for sunset with his array of camera equipment and together with Siobhan he snapped merrily away. As if on cue a large old fashioned sailboat crossed the horizon, and I can’t help thinking it’s sponsored by Broome council as it had done exactly the same the night before.





We left Danny with the local fire twirling committee and headed off for the crab racing near the campsite.



The crab racing was pretty straight forward, you bought a ticket and 8 people were picked out of a hat and nominated a crab. A chap with a large crab hat then blew a tuneless fanfare and let the crabs go, the one reaching the edge of the circle first the winner. After about 4 attempts Siobhan was picked from the hat and we took our place by the edge of the arena. A couple of the adjutants were armed with water pistols and anyone pointing, shouting or trying to influence the crabs had been warned. You will be shot.
So it will come as no surprise that standing next to Siobhan I suffered collateral damage as she jumped up and down shouting and pointing, again and again and again.

We hooked up with Danny again later, and the next morning we sadly said our goodbyes and headed off towards the Gibb River road…..